


Blood in the Breeze

by RaeValentine



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Demons, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Mild Language, Post-Canon, Touching, because they're idiots, fast burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 12:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14188599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeValentine/pseuds/RaeValentine
Summary: The stink of wolf meets his nose, strong and musky. Glaring humanity aside, Inuyasha knew his assailant's identity.“It can’t beyou!“ The inflection is hard to miss, and that gravel-strewn tenor even more so.“Kouga,“ Inuyasha growls, strength waning with every drop of blood that hits the dirt.[First thing's first, I'ma say all the words inside my headI'm fired up and tired of the way that things have beenLast thing's last, by the grace of the fire and the flamesYou're the face of the future, the blood in my veinsYou break me down, you build me up, believer]





	Blood in the Breeze

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for a series of kiss prompts that can be found on my tumblr, [here!](http://doughnutdarling.tumblr.com/) I'm also on twitter! (@donutdarling)
> 
> I've been a fan of the series since I was 12, but I haven't refreshed on the anime in at least 4 years or so. If anything about their characters feels off, it's because I'm writing from memory.
> 
> I wrote this for a very good friend of mine, who requested these two idiots kissing. Jokingly, but he knew I was 100% serious about it. If I start to ship these two, then you're coming down with me. [eye emoji]
> 
> I hope everyone else enjoys this mess as well!! <3

Inuyasha scrambles up a rocky incline, fresh and bloody from an unnecessary battle with a minor demon lord, clutching the gash on his side and breathing too heavily to easily mask.

Squinting into the night, he spots a crevice in the highlands; dark and foreboding, an empty lesion carved into time-worn rock and barely noticeable to human eyes.

It would have to do.

He’d miscalculated the days, and ended up stuck in the demon lord’s territory on the advent of a new moon. With the rise of a dark shroud on the skies came the loss of his demonic strength, agility, and accelerated healing. Not one of his finer moments, but that’s what he got for relying far too much on having Kagome around to keep track for him. Now that she was gone - leaping back into the Bone Eater’s Well from whence she came - it was hard to adjust to a life of solitude.

On the bright side, at least she would be happy. He lived in the moment, taking the days as they came: rough, kind, rainy, disastrous, peaceful. Inuyasha could find his own little niche in the world, and with enough time and effort, he could find that type of happiness for himself.

Survival instincts kicking in, dulled human fingernails dug for purchase among the rough hewn stone. Even now, he smelled the embers of a deadened fire coming from within the meager cave. Someone had been there recently, possibly within the last hour.

With blood slowly trickling between his fingers - pressed tightly to his side to staunch the crimson tide - Inuyasha poked his head into the entrance. 

There was no time to let his eyes acclimate to the shadows before the hanyou is unceremoniously grabbed by the scruff and hauled inside.

A piteous whimper escapes the cage of his teeth as he’s slammed against the cave wall, a pair of sharp fangs poised over the rapidly pounding pulse, a claw-tipped hand snaking around to jerk his head back against worn earth. One arm is pinned against the wall at shoulder height, while his free hand is clenched around the hilt of Tetsusaiga; useless to him in his current state, but a comfort nonetheless.

“W-wait a sec!“

Hot breath plumes across the flushed curve of his neck, hitching on a gasp at the sound of his voice.

The stink of wolf meets his nose, strong and musky. Glaring humanity aside, Inuyasha knew his assailant's identity.

“It can’t be _you_ !“ The inflection is hard to miss, and that gravel-strewn tenor even more so.

“Kouga,“ Inuyasha growls, strength waning with every drop of blood that hits the dirt.

A vague outline is all he can make out; with the absence of a campfire, or the silvery light of the moon to guide him, Inuyasha saw what a human would see: pitch black.

The fangs disappear from his neck, and along with it, the warmth of another body. Without Kouga’s strength to support him, he sways on bare feet, vision swimming.

“Hey, woah!“ Supporting one shoulder, Kouga guides him over to what feels like a soft bed of furs, lowering his body onto the plush pile. “What happened, mutt? Don’t tell me your _dear brother_ decided to take a piece of you after all.“

Inuyasha’s hand leaves the safety of his sword, sweeping shaky fingers through thick, black hair. It still itches faintly, remembering the feeling of his ears migrating from the top of his head to a more distinct human shape below the hairline. His skin still tingled - a tiptoeing line of ants crawling beneath the surface. The urge to rake his claws over bare skin, to feel demonic strength coursing like liquid fire through his veins, was almost too much to bear.

“No, just. Just some lowlife demon lord,“ he murmurs, hating the weakness in his own voice and how pathetic he must seem now.

“You idiot.“ A touch of fondness enters Kouga’s tone, deft claws going to work on unwrapping the robe of the fire rat and moving on to the white shirt beneath. 

“Quit pawin’ at me!“ His protests were weak, as were his attempts to shrug off the wolf prince.

“Not this time, dogbreath. I gotta see the wound so I can treat it.“

“Just let me be.”

A grey fuzz creeps into the edge of his vision, the advent of unconsciousness. Kouga gently slaps at his cheek until his eyes snap open, eyebrows furrowed; he hadn’t even been aware of his eyes closing.

“Oh, no you don’t,“ Kouga mutters, dragging his arm out of the wide sleeve and tossing the bloody garment to the side. The fire rat cloth is clumsily folded and placed beneath his head as a pillow. “Don’t even _think_ about going to sleep, or I’ll kill you myself.”

“As if you _could_ ,“ Inuyasha replies, squirming as Kouga hurriedly gets to work on binding the nasty gash to his side - courtesy of a wickedly sharp spear.

“In your condition, _Shippou_ could easily do the job.” A bark of laughter - tainted in rueful humor and ruby drops of blood coating slick teeth - quickly peters out in a rough whine that leaves him dizzy. “Idiot! Keep your mouth shut, or you really will die.”

Kouga’s admonishment gives him pause, just long enough for the wolf to bind his wound without anymore fuss. It’s not like Inuyasha has the capacity to care where the stuff came from anyway; probably his stupid betas, or some human village he passed through. It’s cold, wet, and settles roughly against his skin, a clumsy poultice designed to stabilize his human form until dawn. 

A striking hiss of flint to stone, and fire springs into the air, flickering brightly and splashing light against the cave walls.

“Better?“ Kouga asks, settling comfortably against the wall beside him, fur-lined legs crossed and emerald eyes gleaming.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Thanks.“

He means it for once, pressing every note of gratitude he can muster into one simple word. There’s a pinch to his arm, lightning quick and needle sharp, eyes snapping open to glare daggers at the wolf prince, who looks far more serious than Inuyasha has ever seen him.

“What did I _just_ tell you?“ Kouga leans in, annoyingly close, enough to count the wispy dark hairs his headband cannot contain.

“The _hell_ , Kouga?!”

He’s not intimidated, no, but the slight prick of fangs against Kouga’s lower lip is enough to give the hanyou pause.

He has no power, no strength, and no access to Tetsusaiga’s might. He is human in all the ways that count, and the thought is terrifyingly humbling.

“You _can’t_ fall asleep, okay?“ He gestures to Inuyasha’s other side, where his hand is pressed against the bandages, cradling the wound gently. “You lost a lotta blood, and if you faint _now_ , you might not wake up.“

The realization is sobering; he has no reason to think that Kouga would lie to him. They had history, despite the countless number of times he wanted to strangle the life out of the arrogant bastard, Inuyasha counted the wolf among his circle of friends.

Maybe not quite pack material, but close enough.

“What do ya,“ he winces, folding careful fingers over the slope of his ribcage, the poultice stinging something fierce. Clears his throat, spits ruby flecks of blood into the wavering flames, tries again. “What do ya _want_ me to do? Stay up all night?“

“ _Now_ he gets it,“ Kouga mutters, leaning back into his own space at last. 

Inuyasha snorts, a light wisp of breath among crackling branches. A companionable silence settles, and for a time, each is lost in reels of old memories; a clear-cut reminiscence of tragic times, where each day was spent fighting for their lives in a period of turbulence and demonic strife.

“Hey,” Kouga says, finally breaking the mood. Inuyasha blinks, long and slow, dark eyes turning to lock with softened jade. “Tell me about your demon half.“

He quirks a dark brow, high enough to disappear into his fringe.

“What about it?“

He shifts position, folding his legs into a lotus and resting his head against the cave wall.

“Doesn’t matter. You can talk about our cultural differences for all I care.“

Blunt fingernails dig into the clumps of soft fur at his side, head knocking back against the stone behind him.

“Well, you’re outta luck. I don’t know _anything_.“

There’s a gentle nudge to his shoulder, rough callouses to smooth skin. It startles him, jerking his attention away from the undulating flames and staring into flickering seafoam eyes, alight with fire, curiosity, and something else he can’t quite place.

“How about this, then.“ Kouga tips a lock of Inuyasha’s dark hair, lets it slide between his claws with barely a snag. He keeps deathly still, fully aware of the possibility that he could lose a chunk of his hair with any sudden movement. “I’ll let you in on some wolf culture, and you can just pay me back later.“

The prospect is daunting. Inuyasha has to fight not to succumb to the dark folds of unconsciousness, but if Kouga keeps talking, maybe he can bear this burden after all.

“I don’t like owing people, especially not _you_.” His weight shifts, closer to Kouga’s outstretched claws, closer to the warmth of another body. “You’ll probably make me do somethin’ stupid.“

Kouga sighs, reigning in his impatience. “Maybe I would’ve back in the day.” His voice fades to little more than a whisper, something like fondness lacing his tone. “But I think we both outgrew those childish arguments a long time ago, yeah?”

Inuyasha snaps back to attention at the incessant clicking of claws against his ear. If Kagome had still been around, she might have known what was wrong with him. Now he has to rely on the mangy wolf for survival.

Staring into the hooded eyes of the hunter, it’s easy to see how she might have fallen for him. He’s not ugly, far from it. Kouga exudes a roguish bravado, an overconfidence born from his position of pack leader.

“Keh! What’ve you got to tell me about wolves that I don’t already know?”

The swift change of subject works like a charm. Kouga’s lips split into an easy grin, a touch of tenderness about the corners that seems foreign, but not unwelcome.

“Well, if you’ll shut up for once, I’d be happy to tell ya.”

The lure of knowledge is too tempting to pass up; he grips the curve of his ribs and dips his head - a slow acknowledgement he can barely afford.

***

Kouga shows him the different greetings depending on rank, gender, and mating status. Most of it is too much for him to comprehend, or too embarrassing to even think about.

“This,” he murmurs, backlit by dying embers. “Is how you say sorry.”

Kouga runs the tip of his claws across the inside curve of Inuyasha’s wrist, feather-light and teasing; he doesn’t bother to suppress the sliver of heat sliding down his back in response.

“Guess that’s not so bad.” His eyes slip shut, and not for the last time, Kouga gently shakes him awake. 

“Hey, cut that out!” He jerks upright, dark eyes roaming the cave vicinity, bloodshot and weary. “You’re startin’ to worry me, mutt.” 

“I’ve had worse.” The statement is met with furrowed brows and Kouga fussing with the hem of his hakama, the fire rat fabric a stark ruby against the pale strip of skin above his ankle. “Seriously, I’m _fine_.”

When Kouga rubs the tip of his nose along the bare column of his throat - a gesture that's meant to provide comfort - Inuyasha succumbs to a baser human instinct and tucks the wolf against his unblemished side in a show of solidarity he didn’t think himself capable of.

He buries his nose in the crown of Kouga’s hair, ignoring everything else save the puff of warm air against the slope of his neck and the faint spread of fire tinting his lungs with the possibility of something _more_.

***

Kouga disappears for an hour to hunt, promising to return before dawn with the largest buck he can carry. With a flick of his fingers and flex of powerful calves, he’s gone from the cave, whirlwind eddies dancing along the cave floor in his wake.

Inuyasha grumbles low in the back of his throat, half-hearted curses dripping from tired lips as he attempts to straighten his hair into a semblance of order. 

Now the only things keeping him awake are sheer force of will, the dying guttural embers of a once proud fire, and the promise of fresh meat.

The wait is short enough for the sky to lighten by a few degrees, the slow crawl of dawn a heady reminder that his humanity is only temporary. 

Kouga returns, just as promised, a crippled doe slung over one shoulder.

“Sorry for the wait,” he says, heaving the carcass to a solitary corner by the entrance, claws painted with the fresh blood of his kill. “Still with me, Inuyasha?”

The pithy retort dies on his tongue, roses blossoming warm in all the layers beneath the skin at the mere sound of his name. He looks away, focusing on the simmering coals in lieu of making eye contact.

“Still here, and starving! Hurry up with that, would ya?”

Kouga’s laughter is music to his ears, a rough burr that vibrates right down to the bone; it settles among half-healed scar tissue and sets his heart aflame, a frantic tattoo he’s sure the wolf can hear.

“Anymore lip, and you can clean it yourself.”

It’s an empty threat, dispersed by a thoroughly cooked meal and casual conversation. Kouga is hard to warm up to, but the absence of his demon makes bonding an exercise in patience that Inuyasha is bound and hell-bent on mastering.

Kouga disappears again, to wash the blood and ichor from his hands. He brings back a shallow rock basin filled with water so Inuyasha can do the same; it’s enough to slake his thirst, and despite the sting in his side, he’s still coherent enough to lay aside Tetsusaiga and put his trust in the wolf for a change.

The closer dawn approaches, the more difficult it is to stay awake. Kouga’s yawns are infectious, and before the first glimmer of light can be seen from the east, he’s out cold and snoring softly on his side, arm slung about the hanyou’s waist – an unanswered prayer of security he can find no fault in. 

Inuyasha falls asleep sometime later in the steel cage of Kouga’s arms, surrounded by fur and musk and a strange sense of belonging.

***

He wakes to a rush of sensation and tender rays of golden light, streaming through the cave entrance and bathing them in timeless grace.

It’s entirely too warm and cozy, an unfamiliar hand resting on the bare crest of his ribs. It’s startling, but not altogether unwanted. The smell of wind and earth – lovingly interwoven through each strand of Kouga’s hair – is enough to curl pleasantly in his lungs and shake his heart awake.

Inuyasha jerks upright, away from Kouga’s easy warmth, his hand curling into the plush fur bedroll. In a conscious effort not to wake the wolf, he slides out from the awkward embrace and into the late afternoon air.

He’s sweating, but not much; the fresh breeze feels heavenly on his bare skin, which feels much more his own than it did the previous night. 

“Unbelievable,” he mutters, scraping at the bandage wound tightly around his torso until he gains purchase, ripping the soiled linen to pieces in wicked sharp claws, discarded ribbons fluttering to the ground in ruined tatters.

Where the spear struck him, there’s now only a faint pucker of skin; a faded pink reminder of a losing battle. His ears are back where they should be: stark white and sleek on top of his head. Claws filed to a sharp point, demonic strength filling his veins in tingling waves, silvery hair billowing about his face in the slight breeze. 

Inuyasha feels _alive_ again, and ready to take on any foe, demonic or otherwise.

“I’d say so.“

A yawn punctuates the silence, the whisper of fur announcing Kouga’s presence. 

The bare slap of feet on stone, each breath a heated bellows, the faint tapping of claws to skin. Inuyasha can hear it all, including the rhythmic flapping of wings off in the distance.

Kouga stands, chest bare and arms crossed, leaning against the rough cave entrance, entirely focused on the hanyou before him.

“And what is _that_ supposed to mean?“

His ears flick back against his skull – a warning and a promise rolled into one. 

“It _means_ ,“ Kouga tosses a loose strand of hair over his shoulder, idly examining the subtle glisten of sunshine against his claws. “That you’re stupidly oblivious to what’s right in front of your nose.“

“Just spit it out already!“

Inuyasha is vaguely aware of a multitude of possibilities, but he’d never considered applying last night’s experience to the present day.

“Guess it ain’t that obvious after all, sheesh!“ Kouga scratches at the back of his neck, an unfamiliar gesture for one so sure of himself and everything he wants in life. “Means I’m, y’know. Interested.“ Their gazes converge and touch, a mere five feet of space between them. Inuyasha cocks a brow, dark against the silvery white of his hair. “In _you_ , you big dummy.”

“Oh.“ It’s pathetic, he realizes, struck with an all-too-familiar feeling of wanting something – _someone_ – he cannot have. 

“Are you not?“

Kouga’s question gives him pause. Silently debating on what ifs, a decision hinging on the pulse of breath between two hearts. What he _wants_ , versus what he _thinks_ he needs.

“I.. I dunno. Maybe?“ The hesitation in his voice makes him cringe, sure his old man must be turning in his grave at the thought of his son backing down from _anything_. He remembers nothing of the Inu no Taisho, save for the fierce pulse of Tetsusaiga strapped to his hip, and without its familiar weight, Inuyasha feels uncomfortable – _vulnerable_ in all the worst ways. “I’m just.. I’m a different person during the new moon, okay?“

Claws clicking evenly against stone, soft laughter on the breeze, and Kouga’s hands reach up to cup the swell of his cheeks, thumbs tracing tender circles in the flushed skin.

“Nah, not to me,“ he murmurs, the glint of a fang, the taut curve of his neck, and the soft corners to his smile create an irresistible tug on Inuyasha’s heartstrings. “You’re the same old Inuyasha, no matter what day of the month it is.“

The edges of his vision tingle, a form of _touched_ he’s never known before now.

“I swear, if you’re _joking_ ,“ he growls, chest vibrating with the threat of violence.

“Not about this.“ Assurance comes on swift wings, Kouga’s hands tracing a delicate path down the pale column of his throat and teasing the edge of his shoulders. “C’mere, I got somethin’ else to teach ya.“

A gentle tug to the bend of his elbow, and he’s following Kouga right back into the cave; he stumbles over his own feet, a giddy coil of anticipation lining his gut. 

Kouga’s back hits the wall, and Inuyasha’s own momentum carries him the rest of the way, right into the arms of the hunter.

“Damn, sorry. I, uh,“ he stutters, uncertain to what is safe, or if this is all just a fever dream brought on by the demon lord’s wicked weapon of choice.

“You’re fine, dummy. Follow my lead, alright?“

Inuyasha swallows down trepidation, thick and tight, and finally accepts the possibility that this was _actually happening_.

Kouga’s hands are gentle, firm fingers whispering across his cheeks in unabashed adoration. 

He can hear each beat of their hearts, his own traitorous pulse thundering loudly in his ears. Kouga only has to look at him for his blood to spark, for his belly to twist, for his lungs to clench.

Their lips meet in a parted rush – catching on cupid’s silk, rough and insistent, Kouga’s fangs pricking sweetly against his tongue. Inuyasha quickly withdraws at the sudden spark of heat, dimly aware he’s pinning Kouga to the cave wall with nothing but the strength of his passion.

Kouga tips a claw to his lips, a tender gesture that leaves Inuyasha wanting _more_. A tiny drop of blood comes away, and he has to look away when Kouga’s tongue swipes it clean. A brush of fingers to his cheek draws him back in, a tidal wave of roiling emotion struggling to make sense in the wake of such easy affection.

“So impatient,” he chuckles, easy and cotton-light. “It’s more like _this_ , yeah?“

Inuyasha edges in, an unspoken pursuit, his own fingers curling into Kouga’s waist with interest, too. 

He loses himself in Kouga’s kisses, fervent and biting – a touch of heated ecstacy, curling messily into each skid and snag of skin to skin.

Kouga pulls him down into the bed of furs, and Inuyasha needs little coaxing to follow.

“Uhh, hang on,“ Inuyasha draws back, blinking golden wonder from his eyes.

“We’re not,“ Kouga says, a touch of laughter dancing at the edge of his tone. “You’re not ready for _that_ yet.“

The prospect _sings_ in his blood, a rush of curiosity sparking in his veins. 

“Thanks? I think.“ He tries to get comfortable, Kouga’s claws digging into the curve of his hip, the absence of Tetsusaiga a mere memory.

“You sure about this?“ Kouga asks, between the slide of fangs against his neck, decorating the skin in licks of molten lust.

“Yeah, it’s. _I’m_ fine.“

“With _us_?“

A frisson of heat slithers down his spine, clutching the wolf against him in a possessive attempt to gain the upper hand – a steady anchor guiding him to shore.

“I guess that doesn’t sound _too_ terrible.“

Inuyasha dives back in, threading his fingers through Kouga’s hair and forgetting all about demon lords, awash in grazes of velvet and rough nips of ardent teeth.

**Author's Note:**

> Cleansing tags is what I do, yo. They don't frick, but probably make out for awhile, at least until Ginta and Hakkaku come back from hunting lmao.
> 
> I claim no medical accuracy, so pls don't @ me.
> 
> The song lyrics included in the summary just felt appropriate, to add a bit of emotional flair. The fic title is also from a song, I wonder if you can guess what they are?
> 
> My name is Rae, and hopefully this fandom will see more works from me in future. ^^


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